


Breakfast in Istanbul

by FrangipaniFlower



Series: Fate [2]
Category: Homeland
Genre: AU, F/M, Season 3, Smut and Fluff, sexy stuff, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 16:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrangipaniFlower/pseuds/FrangipaniFlower
Summary: Sequel of „Jardin des Tuileries“. A few months after the Paris incident, Carrie is station chief, Quinn is chief of support. They have an established but secret relationship. It’s early morning when Quinn comes back from a mission and Carrie will leave for a trip to Jordan in a few hours. So... it’s urgent...





	Breakfast in Istanbul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InchByInch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InchByInch/gifts).



> Happy World Women’s Day to all the awesome ladies here!
> 
> And especially to one of my wonderful friends, the smart, funny, lovely, generous and great Inchbyinch- I am thinking of you!

It was early Saturday morning when Quinn slipped back into his apartment deep inside the US embassy compound in Istanbul.

After having spent the last few days in Tehran, he was looking forward to being back and - _being home_.

Not the nondescript standard embassy apartment which he entered right now. No, the life he lived - _they_ lived - behind the secret connecting door he‘d built between their walk in closets just a few days after his arrival.

Carrie was station chief - the youngest in CIA history - and he was the station‘s chief of support, responsible for overseeing not only the Turkey related issues but Iran as well as far as the ongoing negotiations for the nuclear deal and the regularly visits of the vice president were concerned.

 _First in, last out_ , the ridiculous motto of the directorate of support made him chuckle every once in a while, especially when Fred quoted it to remind Quinn about his line of duty and the mandatory reports he had to give to Carrie, his superior.

_If only Fred knew…_

But Fred didn’t know, and so no one else knew either.

But whenever they both were _home_ , it was just a step through that door and Quinn was in Carrie‘s bedroom. They more or less lived secretly together in her larger apartment. Quinn was even spending some the of the nights there when Carrie was travelling. 

They’d done several trips to bazaars and markets and had bought rugs and large floor pillows as well as some local artwork to make it more like a real place where real people live. It had a spiral staircase up to a small study and from there one could enter the large roof terrace. The view wasn’t very pleasant, more standard living quarters and military equipment hangars, but sitting there at night, leaning against the warm wall, enjoying the night bringing some cooler air, while sipping a glass of wine or sugared mint tea was their favorite evening ritual.

So they had rituals. Almost nine months after Paris and five months since they arrived in Istanbul they had rituals, quite a few of them actually. And Quinn had to admit - he liked having that.

Life wasn’t boring though. Not at all. Their jobs were still mindfucks in the best of times and right now times were anything but ideal. 

The Iran situation was still tense, Turkey had a full blown parade of its own issues, the Syrian war and the Kurdic situation just being two of them. Carrie travelled to Jordan and Lebanon at least once a week, meeting assets among the vast number of refugees, trying to set up a network with members of the former Syrian intellectual class and ex military which eventually might be able to transform into forming the new government - should that day ever come.

And recently, he himself had spent more time in Iran and at the Syrian border than in Istanbul.

But when they both were in Istanbul, like now…

He slipped out of his clothes and turned the water on, thinking he should at least have a shower and make some coffee before going next door.

Walking over towards the kitchen corner naked to start the coffee machine, his eyes fell on a piece of paper on the counter.

_Right. The lamp._

It was a receipt from a small workshop reminding him he needed to pick up a lamp which was meant to be in Carrie’s office. Of course the embassy’s facility management took care of any replacements or repairs but in this specific case the damage had been caused by _extraordinary circumstances_ and he had decided to get the lamp fixed elsewhere. Better not to spark more rumors.

But the occasion was a memorable one. 

_Good God._

Of course Carrie and he fought a lot. Less than he had expected, but still enough. Sometimes he thought that was good because no one would expect them to be together given the amount of professional arguments they had.

And about two weeks ago they had had a yelling match about the drone intervention near the Syrian border Carrie had ordered.

Quinn wasn’t against drones, of course not. Just in this case, the intel had been too weak, the images were too blurry, and the last thing they needed was a diplomatic incident with the Turkish government right now, given how tense the relationships were because the US used their military base in Turkey for intervention in Syria.

So he had ordered the sergeant who operated the drone to stop. And had put that man in an impossible situation. Carrie was the highest rank station officer, but Quinn had the highest military rank, which at least the military personnel knew, and so the guy had hesitated just that second too long and the window of opportunity had closed.

Worse, this had happened with eight people witnessing the scene. 

He knew that Carrie had to make a scene, even had to threaten to file disciplinary action against him, but that didn’t mean that he had taken it well. So he had been a stubborn bastard and Carrie had been furious. At least she‘d been smart enough to relocate their _discussion_ to her office.

Soundproof and bug swept, because he took his job fucking seriously.

It had been the worst fight they‘d ever had - and he knew she was right, especially since she was a woman in a male dominated world she couldn’t let anyone get away with disrespectful behavior as this would spark a trend among all the other staff - and the best make up sex they‘d ever had.

God, she‘d been fucking beautiful, like an avenging angel, her eyes sparking anger, her whole body radiating fury.

And yet he‘d been so angry. With her, with the fucked up situation they were in, with himself for slipping like this and putting them into a situation like this. And because his call had been the _right_ choice. Not the smartest but the right one. 

They‘d ended on her desk, Carrie had started it by kissing him hard, biting his lower lip, just breaking away for a second to ask if he‘d like to fuck her.

_Christ, Carrie. Never ceases to amaze me._

He was under the shower now and remembering bending Carrie backwards over her desk, her skirt up to her waist, lowering her lacy briefs and drilling himself into her - fuck, that had been a memorable one. 

There had been some collateral damage though. Carrie had bitten his hand when he‘d tried to silence her, the lamp had fallen from the desk to the floor, the same had happened to her laptop - thank God and the US army for sturdy tech equipment - his back had had two bloody scratches and Carrie had been a trifle sore for two days.

But he still heard her panting _fuck Quinn, harder, I know you want to fuck me so just do it_.

Closing his eyes he saw her slender body on that desk, his hands around her hips holding her in place while he drove into her. Once hadn’t been enough, but for the second time he‘d undressed her, and that mental image of Carrie bending over her desk, naked and for him, with his hands roaming over her back, still gave him shivers.

They had three hours together before Carrie would leave for Jordan, and as far as he was concerned they‘d use those hours.

Freshly showered, wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt, and with two steaming mugs of coffee he walked over to Carrie, once again in silent awe that this was _normal_ now. He could walk into Carrie‘s bedroom now while she was asleep and she wouldn’t kick him out and think he was a creepy intruder.

She woke up when he sat down at the corner of the mattress.

„I smell coffee,“ she blinked sleepily, „and my favorite barista.“

Sitting up, she kissed his cheek and took one of the mugs.

„That’s good. That’s how I like to wake up. When did you get back?“

„Twenty minutes. Came here right away.“

„I need to leave at eight.“

„I know. Saw your schedule.“

And he also saw the four days without appointments and obligations which had opened because of her Jordan trip being preponed. 

Carrie put her coffee mug away and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

„C‘mere. It’s not eight yet. Not even six.“

Pulling him to lie on top of her, her hands slipped under his shirt, slowly caressing the smooth skin she found there.

She laughed when she felt him hard already against her crotch.

„What have you been thinking about under the shower, uhm? Because that’s not just joy to see me again, right?“

„One‘s as good as the other,“ he muttered, busy to nuzzle her neck and revel in feeling her again, finally, after almost a week away, „because it’s both about you. But since you asked, your office… and your sweet ass…“

And with that, his hand slipped under her body to cup the said ass and to press her upwards against him.

„A memorable one,“ Carrie chuckled, gently nibbling his lower lip when he finally leant in to kiss her, enjoying the friction against her centre when Quinn pressed her upwards again.

„Fuck, I missed you, Quinn.“

„You have me now,“ he sat up and quickly undressed, „for about three hours. Use your time wisely, Mathison.“

„I will, you bet.“

And with that she crawled out of bed and stood in front of him, looking gorgeous with her messy bed hair, the intimacy making him swallow around a lump in his throat.

She slowly pulled her tank top over her head, revealing the perfect roundness of her breasts, and then she turned around when she lowered her panties and bent down to step out of them.

_Minx._

Then she turned back to face him, a seductive smile on her lips, and climbed into his lap. 

„Any ideas how to spend the morning, chief of support?“

He sighed from pleasure and anticipation, feeling her labia against him, warm and with a hint of wetness.

„How about a slow and tender morning fuck?“, he asked, his hands covering her back, his lips trailing along her collarbone, „or did you have something specific in mind?“

„Sounds perfect,“ Carrie purred when he bent her backwards to lie down and started kissing the sensitive skin just next to her nipple, one hand drawing lazy circles around her navel, slowly travelling further south.

Quinn‘s constant presence in her life was something she‘d gotten used to quickly, and - to her own surprise and even if he still could drive her crazy with his stubbornness - they‘d settled into a life _together_ easily and without any major fallouts. As station chief, she couldn’t have a relationship with one of her subordinates, but they both agreed on not needing any public display of affection or any kind of public recognition. So Istanbul had turned out to be a good choice. 

Their work was stressful, the situation in Syria was a horrible clusterfuck which very well might destabilize the whole region for decades - but for the first time in her life there was someone to share that burden. And not only that, but even more so, someone with whom she could forget about her work and all obligations related with that calling for a few hours whenever they managed to cut out a few hours of time to be spend together from their days full of duties.

Like now.

Carrie felt her own breath elevating and goosebumps rising on her skin when Quinn fucking finally enveloped her nipple with his mouth, sucked gently and then, pleased by her reaction, harder, adding grating teeth.

Letting her head sinking back into a soft pillow, Carrie gave herself to the sensations he was giving her, his tongue lapping around her nipple now, two long and deft fingers slipping between her legs, circling her entrance, probing her increasing wetness, flicking over her clit, Quinn huffing a muffled chuckle against her breast when her body bucked.

Being with someone who was so focused on her reactions and satisfaction was new to Carrie - and nothing short of a revelation.

Days off together were rare but the few they‘d had, they‘d spent in bed, indulging in their time together and ways to please each other.

She liked the urgent fucks too, when they worked crazy hours and just slept a few short hours in between their days full of spycraft, diplomacy and international crises but managed to carve out half an hour, usually ignited by a secretive side glance in the ops room which caused her to summon Quinn for a _briefing_ on a urgent intelligence matter into her office. 

With Quinn being the only one with the same security clearance she herself had, none of their colleagues questioned why the chief of support slash special agent overseeing the Iran negotiations had to receive quite a few one on one briefings - which came in handy, and a few extras in a more _private matter_ didn’t stir any rumours.

And then there were the evenings when they both were _home_ and no crisis demanded their attention. These were rare but she cherished them even more because of their seldom occurrence.

They would just sit upstairs with a drink, enjoying a break and just being together. Or sometimes they'd talk shop, evaluating options and then they would go to bed late, but together and make love before falling asleep.

This was what it would be right now - making love, reveling in being together and having found each other, wordlessly conveying all that they couldn’t express yet with words - and didn’t need to say because _this_ here and now was the only truth that mattered.

Quinn slowly entered her with his finger, adding a second when she arched her back, offering him a heartbreaking view, her nipples erected as small and tight buds which he loved to suck and bite just to tease her and drive her mad with desire.

The morning sun filtered through the window blinds, bathing the room with bright rays of light, two of them crossing over Carrie‘s body like arrows.

He leant in and let his mouth travel along the path the light created across her abdomen, his fingers slowly fucking her, her soft moans guiding him.

„Do you want me to make you come right now,“ he whispered when he reached her shoulder, twisting his fingers to reach a sensitive spot he knew she had deep within, „or do you want to go with me?“

„With you. And now.“

There was a lot of Carrie logic in that answer, and it made him laugh and his heart swell, to see this beautiful and fucking brilliant woman - his _love_ \- writhing under his touch, surging her hips to find more friction while she wrapped her arms around him and whispered _“I really missed you - and this.“_

He let his tongue travel along the second arrow of light, across her breast and abdomen, her skin already heated up from the sun, tasted a hint of the lemon oil she used instead of lotion these days, letting his fingers softly glide in and out of her.

She was gone the moment his tongue flicked over her clit, fast laps and quivering movements of his fingers inside her, her orgasm releasing with a force she hadn’t expected, sweet and satisfying.

Quinn waited her shivers out, feeling her body trembling against his mouth, enjoying the anticipation for what lay ahead of them.

She‘d be pliant under his touch, would open herself to him and follow his every movement, her body would feel like it was made to receive him. They‘d start slow, giving her time to recover and re-awake while he‘d be enjoying the build up, each stroke going all the way in up to the hilt and then slowly pulling back until he was almost out again, just to push back into her again.

And that’s what they did now, her eyes locked on his when he framed her between his elbows and slowly entered her, holding his breath and smiling down on her.

Carrie loved to see that warmth and adoration in his eyes, and how Quinn made her feel cherished and desired. And she loved seeing him unravel when he lost himself with her. Usually he was so self controlled and tense, and here and now she felt like she saw his real self, all that devotion and tenderness when he pushed into her and bent his head to meet her mouth for a kiss.

There was no urgency in his movements, she knew he enjoyed the slow build up, that they had all the time in the world now for these precious hours, and that she was his, for as long as he wanted this to last.

She felt her own body awaking again, each thrust slowly bringing her back to feel what he felt.

„I missed you, baby,“ he whispered, one of his hands buried in her hair now, „you make me miss you whenever I‘m away.“

„That’s bad?“

„You tell me. Is that bad? Oh fuck… Carrie…,“ his voice trailed off when raised her legs and allowed him a deeper angle.

„No… I want you to miss me. I want you to want me.“

She whispered her answer, her voice almost breaking towards the end, and all Quinn could do was carefully move them both to lie on their sides, her upper leg locked around his hip now, and gathering her in his arms, as close as he could.

„Always Carrie, always.“

Thrusting faster now, he felt her going with him, moving her body in countermotion to his strokes, her breathing getting faster, every now and then hearing one of those mind blowing whimpers.

He let his hand trail down her back, over her ass, squeezing it, and then, when Carrie sighed and moved her hips faster, he slipped his hand between her buttocks, the pad of his index finger gently grazing over her rim.

He felt her clenching around him, her breath hot against his skin, a shiver of excitement rushing down his spine.

„There’s still some lube on the nightstand, so...“ Carrie invited him, kissing him deeply while he fished for the small bottle with a long arm and opened it with his thumb, squeezing a generous amount over his fingers, and probably the same amount onto the sheets and her ass.

Just when his finger was covered with the oily liquid he slowly slipped it back between her buttocks, circling her back entrance with his index finger, knowing he‘d go with her as soon as she was going to come.

Slowly and carefully he introduced just the tip of his finger, felt Carrie holding her breath and then relaxing again with a soft moan so it felt safe to venture a little further.

„Okay now?“ he whispered, stopping again.

„Not the word. Yes, like this, oh God, Quinn…“

He‘d stilled his movements when he’d started inserting his finger but now slowly picked up rocking against her, soft and gentle movements, stimulating her in tandem now, blown away by her breathless whimpers when he carefully pushed his finger past the second ring, reaching the most sensitive tissue.

„Go slow,“ she breathed, feeling an incredible wave building up deep within, „God, Quinn, yes… just that…“

Feeling Quinn from both sides, securely enveloped in his arms, his body her shelter, Carrie gave in and allowed herself to be washed away, consciousness being ripped away from her, her pleasure multiplied by Quinn‘s finger adding soft and quivering stimulation to her innermost wall while he still fucked her with almost indolent movements now.

She loved the feeling of surrender. The intensity. The intimacy. Every sensation magnified. 

„I love doing this to you,“ Quinn exhaled against her mouth, parting her lips for him, owning her in every way, her body, her soul, her heart, „I love having you. I love making you mine.“

The one time they‘d done this before had been spectacular, and now wouldn’t be any different. Her orgasm came from a deeper place, and built up much slower, the anticipation adding to her immense pleasure, mindblowingly intense, making her whole body shiver and tremble, the heat rising within her almost unbearable, too much, too good, too intense.

It was an implosion of sheer bliss, pure surrender to _feel_ , allowing herself to be carried into this sensation - pulsating, long and forceful, while taking Quinn with her when the large knot at the base of his spine released with a jolt, tearing through his core. Carrie loved hearing him, panting loudly now, his buttocks flexing under her palms, his heartbeat hammering against her breast, the intensity of _this_ and him making her vision fade for a long moment.

 

Carefully removing his finger once they came out of it, Quinn gathered Carrie in his arms again, still moving gently every now and then, enjoying those soft waves rippling through his body and Carrie‘s quiet moans whenever he did that.

When he finally pulled out of her, Carrie curled up against his chest, the morning sun now fully reaching their bed and warming their bodies while they enjoyed a few long and blissful moments.

„You know how to make me miss you even more,“ Carrie came up on her elbows to look down to him, thinking about how she‘d not see him until next Wednesday.

They had thirty minutes left before she had to leave.

„Your chief of support, Carrie, always,“ he quipped, raising to sit up and to place a kiss on her shoulder, „Breakfast now?“

 

They met outside after Carrie took a shower, already dressed for her day then, some bread, olives and white goat cheese waiting for her on the small table, a steaming mug next to the plate.

„Why was your trip preponed?“

„Nothing suspicious. The German philanthropist financing the hospital is flying in and wants to meet me.“

„So you not only form a shadow government but build hospitals now?“, Quinn raised an eyebrow.

„He is. And let’s face it. Even _if_ there is international intervention, it will take years until Zaatari and the other camps will be emptied, maybe that will never happen. And the people there need medical aid.“

„So he asked you to come?“

„Well, basically he asked me to agree on a deal with the local Hamas commander so that they won’t sabotage his work.“

„Makes sense. How did he find you?“

„I told you about that American couple. The human rights lawyer and the psychology professor. They brought him in, they go way back, met in Kosovo during that war.“

„They‘ll be there too?“

„I hope so. They have three kids, which makes traveling inconvenient I guess. But she is the driving force behind that hospital.“

„Women get stuff done,“ the corners of Quinn‘s eyes crinkled over the rim of his coffee mug.

„She clearly does. She‘s a force. Smart as fuck and funny as hell.“

„So, Tequila night again?“

„God, don’t remind me,“ Carrie laughed, remembering the last time she‘d met her new friend a few weeks ago, and the long night and great talk they‘d had then - and the half of a bottle of Tequila they‘d emptied. And the headache. 

„So, your day?“, she asked nibbling a few more olives, enjoying the sun on her arms which weren’t covered by her sleeveless top.

„Staff meeting at ten.“

„It’s a shame that you only lead these when I am not there.“

„Comes with being your deputy. Why?“

„Cause you are damn sexy when you are in command. Navy shirt, icy glare, straight back - I like that.“

She laughed, sipping her coffee, and once again he was lost for words - or more to the point, the words he had in mind weren’t suitable for a breakfast conversation.

„Anyway,“ she raised to her feet, „I need to go. My transport will be here soon.“

„Pack for a few days more. Civilian. No war zone,“ Quinn aimed for a casual tone but felt the nervous flutter in his stomach when he looked at her.

„Quinn?“

„Four days off,“ he shrugged, „both of us so…“

„Where are we going?“

He was relieved when he saw her excitement, her face lightening up.

„That’s for me to know and for you to find out,“ he smiled and got up too to kiss her goodbye.

„So anticipation is half the fun or what?“, she huffed and kissed him back.

„Yes. I‘ll meet you at the airport.“

**Author's Note:**

> Next one will be their weekend trip...
> 
> I couldn’t have done this without SNQA and Uponthewire. Thank you!


End file.
